


no other way

by ballerinaroy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hospitals, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballerinaroy/pseuds/ballerinaroy
Summary: In which it's Ron, not Hermione, taking vigil at a near-death bed.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione hadn’t wanted the danger. Had decided to lay down her wand so to speak after the battle and pursued normalcy. Education. Mentorship. A career. All those things young witches and wizards were told to want. Even marriage. Not that they were quite there yet. The ring was in his nightstand instead of on her finger. Soon. As soon as the moment struck he was ready. God, he was ready.

Never more so than now. Days into sitting in that hospital chair watching her chest rise and fall, each second in-between the next breath a nightmare.

Harry slipped into the room, handing Ron a paper cup filled with tea.

“She had a good night,” Ron told him, sitting back in his chair and angling so he could still see her from the corner of his eye. “No more seizures.”

“That’s good,” Harry said looking relieved. He walked to the other side of the bed and studied her. “She’s strong, she’s going to make it through this.”

Ron wasn’t sure whether he was trying to assure Ron or convince himself. He merely nodded and Harry took his usual position in the chair next to Ron’s.

“You should go,” Harry offered. “Change, get a breath of fresh air. I’ll stay.”

“You’ve got work.” Ron frowned.

“I’ll stay,” Harry said fiercely.

Ron looked him over. Harry looked rather sleepless, though Ron wasn’t one to talk, a determined look in his eye. If it were Ginny lying here, Ron knew he’d need a moment alone to whisper fighting words into her ear. He supposed Harry deserved that same respect.

“Alright,” Ron agreed. It had been a couple of days since he’d last left the room. “If anything happens-“

“You know I will,” Harry said and Ron rose stiffly from his chair and pressed a kiss to Hermione’s head, giving her a long look over before assessing Harry one last time and leaving the room.

Sure enough, as he exited he watched Harry take his place and bend close to her unconscious head. Assured she would be guarded, Ron set up, intent on returning as quickly as possible.

The sunlight was incredibly bright compared to the windowed view he’d been getting for the last week. Ever since the Patronus commanding his stay in place, since Harry had come, looking frantic telling him…telling him there’d been an incident. That they’d acted as quickly as they could and she…she…

Ron was overcome with that panic once more and he fought to stay on course. She was okay, for now, Hermione was okay. He needed to stay strong, look after himself. He’d be no good to her wasted away.

He ducked into the nearest alley and seconds later his nostrils were assaulted by the rank dumpsters of the alley closest to their flat. When he was with her he always appeared a block over to a much less vile alleyway but the state of his apparition point was of little concern to him today.

It was like stepping into a time capsule. Their lives from only a week ago untouched. How had it only been seven days since he last saw her conscious? He’d left that morning in a hurry, trying to find the proper attire for a day spent in the elements. Hermione shouting at him from the kitchen about where his gloves were and he unable to find them until she came and they’d magically appeared where he’d searched a dozen times.

Had he thanked her? Or had he been too annoyed? In too big of a hurry? Those emotions seemed frivolous now. Of a life at ease. They’d forgotten what it meant to be at risk of losing one another. Had stopped being grateful to wake up to each other each day.

“Oh, Hermione,” he whispered, laying his hand on the counter, remembering the times she’d rest against it while he cooked, a dozen scrolls open in front of her.

He’d always remarked that she didn’t look very comfortable standing there and she’d blush a little and say matter of factly that it _“feels good to stand._ ” And then he’d tease her about wanting to spend time with him and she’d blush or roll her eyes and give that little smile she did when she was caught but pleased. 

What if she didn’t…couldn’t again? What if the only life he got with her was living with her ghost? All the memories that filled this place, bodyless and voiceless.

The possibility was too overwhelming. Now more than ever before he knew that he needed her. Needed the future that only existed in his daydreams and silly whispered conversations. Needed the promise of a lifetime of happiness. Three years wasn’t enough. He needed more.


	2. Chapter 2

_“Ron, come now-“_

He couldn’t even remember what he was doing but it didn’t matter. He’d only left her alone with Harry for a few minutes, he hadn’t even showered yet and the Patronus had come bounding into the room, the stag massive and Harry’s tone quick.

 _No, no, no_. He shouldn’t have left, he promised he’d never leave again, swore to himself that he’d always be there to protect her and-

The corridor, empty, felt like it was going on forever as he sprinted down it. Each doorway he passed added two on and her room at the end of it was miles away. He doubled his speed, running, running.

“Hermione!” he shouted. She had to know he was coming, she couldn’t..wouldn’t-she had to know he was here he was coming. “Hermione!”

He was running, going as fast as he could but gaining no ground.

“Hermione!”

It was Harry who appeared first, waving him in.

“I was only gone for a few minutes,” Ron panted, “I-“

“It’s okay,” Harry said, laughing and pointed him into the room.

She was sitting up in her bed, a smile spreading on her face as she turned to look at him.

He stayed in the doorway, staring at her in disbelief. “Hermione, you’re-“

He crossed the room in a haze, sitting down on her bedside and looking her over. She’d gotten her color back, skin no longer pale and empty. She’d never looked more beautiful.

“I was so worried.” He admitted, picking up one of her hands and bringing it to his lips to kiss. “God, Hermione.”

He fished hopefully into the pocket of his jeans and it was there.

“Hermione I love you,” he told her, gripping the velvet box in his hand and looking at her. “When Harry told me, when I heard, Hermione I might have died on the spot.”

She shook her head at him, not believing.

“I wanted to do this properly,” he said, letting go of her hand to open the box and presented it to her. Her eyes widened a little in surprise. “And I will,” he promised, “I will do all those right things with the dinner and the flowers and, but for now, right here, will you marry me?”

There was something postured about the way she was staring at him, blankly and it occurred to him she, the woman who always had something to say, had not said anything at all.

“What’s wrong? He asked her, pulling back and looking at her.

“You weren’t here,” she told him. “When I woke up you weren’t here.”

“I’m sorry, I-“

“You weren’t here,” she repeated and the glow that had emanated off her was fading. “You told me you’d never leave me but you weren’t here.”

Her hand reached out, pushing away the box and it fell from his vision.

“You weren’t here,” she said again.

“I just went home, Harry said-“

Ron looked back to the doorway but it was empty, the corridor outside it dark and silent. Where had he gone, where was-?

“Hermione?” he asked, turning towards her again and nearly fell off the bed in alarm. Her face was pale again, drained of life. “No, no, no-“

He began shaking her as her expression fell blank. “No, Hermione, no-“

“Ron, Ron-“

He awoke with a start and was surprised to see his sister there, shaking his shoulder.

“Ron?” she asked. “You were shouting out in your sleep.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, putting his hand over his face and wiping it.

“It’s alright,” she said, stepping back to give him room to sit up. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he must’ve. He was still in their living room, head bent uncomfortably over the back of the sofa.

“What time is it?” he asked, rolling his neck. “How long was I-?”

“A few hours,” Ginny said, disappearing into the other room. “I stopped by at lunch and Harry said you hadn’t come back, sent me to check on you.”

She emerged with a glass of water which he accepted, downing the whole thing before looking at her.

“I need to get back,” Ron said, “She shouldn’t be alone.”

“Harry wouldn’t leave her,” Ginny reminded him. “You need to rest, keep your strength up.”

Ron shook his head, ready to argue.

“Hermione would want you to rest, Ron.”

“And what if she wakes up without me there?” Ron countered. “What if she thinks that I-?”

“Stepped out to the loo?” Ginny offered. “Got a cup of tea? God forbid you take a shower.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Ron told her and Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Do you want me to be more direct about you smelling?” Ginny asked him and he glared at her. “She’s our friend too, do you really think we’d let anything happen to her?”

He shook his head but didn’t say anything. He felt his pocket for the velvet box and was relieved to find it there. It had disappeared in his dream, she had thrown it away. What if she-?

“What’ve you got there?” Ginny asked inquisitively.

Still annoyed with her, he considered not telling her but gave in, pulling the box from his pocket and handing it carefully to her.

“Ron,” Ginny breathed in disbelief, glancing between him and the box several times. “Are you-?”

He nodded, “Go ahead.”

Gently she flipped open the lid and her eyes sparkled with delight. “It’s beautiful.” She inspected the ring, turning the box this way and that so the diamond caught the light and said, “Hermione’s going to love it.”

“But what if she-?” he started and Ginny shook her head.

“Oh Ron, don’t.”

“I should have given it to her already.” He said, “I just-I wanted to do it right and now-“

“She’s going to pull through,” Ginny told him, closing the box and sitting down next to him hurriedly. “Ron, she’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” he said stiffly, feeling his eyes grow wet. “There’s no way of knowing. She could-“

“You can’t think that way Ron,” Ginny insisted, rubbing his shoulder. “You just can’t.”

She sniffled and at least he managed to look up at her. “Hermione is going to wake up,” she told him firmly. “And you are going to give her that ring and you two are going to be so happy, alright?”

He nodded, not really believing her.

“There’s no other way Ron. I won’t let there be.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was supposed to have come with him that morning, but he’d gotten held up on another case and Ron had been sent with a trainee named Kathy. Still, even if he couldn’t be with his best mate, it was nice to be out in the fresh air and sun when it peaked through. And all they had to do was knock on a few more doors to ask the residents whether or not they’d seen anything strange following a bar fight the other night. (The assailant was in custody and had confessed, but it never hurt to have a few more witness statements.)

“Want to take the lead on this next one?” Ron asked as they approached the last block of houses.

“Sure!” she said eagerly.

“Keep in mind we’re not here to spread gossip,” Ron reminded her, “And they’re pretty far away, so they might not have heard anything.”

With any luck, they’d be done before lunch. Maybe he’d look in on Hermione, he’d barely seen her all week. Only, she’d warned him that it might be a bit longer. Some classified assignment he hadn’t even been briefed on. Though he’d pieced together it had something to do with the capturing of Manticore just south of Whales. Perhaps Harry would be done, or maybe George-

“Is that for you?” Kathy asked, pulling his focus.

Ron looked up and found a stag made of light heading towards him. He frowned, knowing it couldn’t be good news otherwise Harry would have just waited for him to come back.

“Stay where you are, I’m on my way,” Harry’s voice said.

Ron shared an alarmed look with Kathy, gripping his wand tightly and his eyes darted about, looking for a threat. The seconds ticked on and Ron tried to control his breathing as a thousand scenarios ran through his head. At last, after what felt like an eternity, Harry appeared down the lane, sprinting towards them his face filled with terror.

“Harry?” Ron asked, his voice trembling. “What-?”

“It’s Hermione,” Harry told him and he sounded winded as though he’d run all the way here. “She-she got attacked she’d in the hospital she-“

His blood pounded in his ears, Harry’s words coming from very far away. _No_.

“Come-on,” Harry said, holding out his arm. “She’s in St. Mongos.”

His feet couldn’t carry him fast enough and the corridor seemed to be getting longer as they raced down it, dodging carts and healers, ignoring the shouts to slow down. At last, they reached the end, bursting through the doors but it wasn’t Hermione resting there.

Roberts was already standing there, in heated conversation with the head of Magical Beings Division and someone dressed in Unspeakable robes whom Ron didn’t recognize.

“What happened?” Ron demanded. “Where is she, where’s Hermione?”

The room fell silent, and it seemed all three of them too afraid to speak.

“Tell me.”

“I’m afraid we can’t disclose-“

“I know it’s the Manticore,” Ron snapped and when Hermione’s boss opened his mouth. “I’d be stupid not to, we were involved in its capture too.”

“Yes,” Roberts admitted, giving the other department head a challenging look. “Hermione has been involved in the care of the Manticore.”

“And it-?” He could picture it all too vividly. Remember with horror the way it had stalked back and forth, looking for their weakness while they lay its trap. It had been massive and she-

“For the past week, we have been attempting to find a way to subdue the creature without causing it irreversible harm until a more suitable habitat can be located.” The head of the Magical Beings Division was speaking now. “This morning, while Miss. Granger was conducting a routine wellness check, the subject broke free of its bonds and attacked-er, Miss. Granger-“

The air left his lungs. He looked to the Unspeakable, who’s face was without emotion.

“We were able to subdue the creature and extract Miss. Granger.” He said without emotion in his voice. “She was taken here to be treated for her injuries.”

For the first time, Ron looked him over. Blood speckled the front of his robes. The thought that it might be Hermione’s made his stomach churn.

“And she?”

“We’re still waiting to hear from the healers,” Roberts explained when no one else spoke. He looked, doubtfully at his peers. “We should know more soon.”

“Harry!” Ginny said bursting into the room.

Ron looked at them, pained as they embraced and Ginny took the empty seat beside him, laying her hand on his back.

“Ron, what’s?”

“She’s, she’s still in with the healers,” Ron explained, “They haven’t, they don’t know-“

“Oh, Ron,” Ginny whispered, putting both her arms around him now as Harry sat down on the other side of him. “She’s going to be okay she-“

Ron could see her looking over her shoulder and didn’t have to look to know that Harry was shaking his head warningly.

“She-she’s strong, Hermione,” Ginny finished, stammering.

Ron didn’t dare look at Harry. Didn’t think he could stand the expression on his face. The expression of someone two steps ahead. He couldn’t accept this fate, wouldn’t.

Ron opened his mouth to say something positive but his body did not feel like his own. His hands, clasped in his lap were cold, his legs too heavy to adjust. He was on the brink of tears though his body wouldn’t accept his command allowing them.

“It’s okay,” Ginny whispered, her hand moving back and forth. “You’ll be alright.”

No, he wouldn’t. There was not a world for him without Hermione. All of his futures, all of his plans involved her. His days without her would be void of love or joy or happiness for she was the primary source of his fulfillment. How could he be expected to work or laugh or…or

“It’s alright,” Ginny said again. Beside him, Harry stood again and Ron watch him walk over to the window and stare out it, his face a mask.

Ron looked at his sister. She wasn’t crying. Why wasn’t anyone crying? Someone should be crying.

“She can’t-“ Ron managed, his voice sounding foreign. “She can’t.”

“No,” Ginny agreed. “She won’t."

The room had filled up. Mum and Dad. Mr. And Mrs. Granger. George and Angelina. Those two women whom Hermione had started a book club with. And when each of them entered they came up and told him true, but unhelpful statements. Hermione was strong. She was brave. She was incredible.

It was almost midnight before the healer emerged, looking worn and when she saw them all gathered there Ron could see her steel herself up for them.

“We’ve done everything we can for the night,” the healer said, “We have her under observation, but if you’d like to see her for a minute in pairs.”

Ron was already on his feet. “Take me.”

She nodded, turning back and gesturing for him to follow. At last she pushed open a door, inside on a single bed was Hermione. She looked so small. Her hair tucked behind her head, parted in a way she never would. It must’ve been done while she was unconscious. Her arms and chest were wrapped in bandages, so many of them that only the tips of her fingers could be seen.

“Hermione,” he whimpered, reaching out a trembling hand to touch her cheek, the one without a bandage of its own. “Oh, Hermione.”

She didn’t stir. Her eyes didn’t flutter. Made no movement at all. He had hoped—God when it had been him last lying there it had been her voice that had brought him to the surface. Knowing that he couldn’t do the same.

It was like a dam breaking, the wall in his chest shattering and he struggled to remain upright as, finally, the tears began streaming down his face. It happened so fast he could barely see her, only a blurred shape of white. That wasn’t Hermione, couldn’t be, they had to have gotten it wrong, she couldn’t-

“It’s alright,” he heard someone say, laying their hand on his back.

He looked to his left and found Harry standing there, his eyes just as wet and he pushed up his glasses, wiping the tears away.

“Harry she can’t,” Ron whispered. “She-“

“No,” Harry agreed, his voice garbled. “She can’t.”

There wasn’t a possibility. They could not live in a world without Hermione Granger in it.


	4. Chapter 4

“Come on,” Ginny urged. “It’s New Years, you deserve a night away.”

“That’s not going to work again,” Ron told her in a final tone. “You got me at Christmas, didn’t you?”

Ginny sighed but didn’t point out that he’d only stayed an hour. Instead, she looked pleadingly to Harry. At least he seemed to understand, not pushing, and instead withdrew a bottle of champagne from within his bag. He raised an eyebrow at Ron.

“Alright,” Ron agreed, “But we’ll have to be quick.”

“You do remember your sister at her birthday, don’t you?” Harry teased and Ginny flushed but didn’t try and correct him.

Ron let out a laugh, it felt good, even if Hermione wasn’t there to share it. Into salvaged teacups three drinks were poured, the bottle hidden should they be interrupted and they cheersed one another.

“To the New Year,” Ron said. “May it be a better one than this.”

“To 2000!” Ginny said. “And to the muggle’s notion that the world is going to end.”

“To Hermione,” Harry finished the thought on all their minds. They all looked over, and she remained as still as ever.

Most of her scaring he hadn’t been privy to, but now it was only her chest that was wrapped so tightly. Her right arm left to breathe. Not that it didn’t show the signs of her attack. But the scaring there was fading, white already in places. The kind of bravery badges she would live with. _She had to live_.

“To Hermione,” they echoed, clinking their teacups together and drinking healthy portions of their drinks.

Drinks were refilled and the three settled down into their regular seats. Ron was grateful for the company, though he knew they wouldn’t stay all night. Not that he blamed them. They deserved to celebrate like normal twenty-year-olds.

“What did the Healer have to say?” Harry asked as though he wasn’t there every day.

“Nothing new,” Ron said, shaking his head. “They say that the skin graft on her abdomen isn’t taking as fast as they’d like, but she hasn’t rejected it. We’ll know more in a few days.”

“And her kidneys?” Ginny asked.

“Just had a bad day,” Ron said, glancing over at Hermione and taking her hand. “Nothing since.”

Weeks now spent waiting. Treatment after treatment with the healers to repair the damages. Potions, so many it made his head positively spin trying to keep track of them all. He knew when Hermione woke she would have questions and he’d be damned if he didn’t know the answers to them.

“You two don’t have to stay,” Ron told them. “I’m sure you’ve got a dozen parties to get to.”

“Twenty-six to be exact,” Harry said, sounding already exhausted at the prospect. “The balls on these people, I don’t even have twenty-six friends.”

“That’s just because you’ve got good taste,” Ron said, puffing his chest. “Cream of the crop we are.”

Harry snorted as Ginny checked her watch.

“Are you sure we can’t keep you company?” Ginny asked. “Honestly, they’re just parties.”

“Go on, I’ll be fine,” Ron told them. “Just, leave the bottle, will you?”

“Just you and me,” Ron said, dragging his chair around so it faced Hermione. “You did tell me last year that the parties were pretty worthless and we could have more fun staying in. Didn’t think this was how you’d win that argument.”

Ron chuckled at his own joke, sitting down and propping up his feet.

“Though, after Ginny’s birthday, I think we might have fulfilled our quota for disastrous nights for the year. Not to mention Dean’s.” Ron cringed at the memory. “My sister might actually have a problem around champagne.”

He glanced at Hermione and could picture her displeased look perfectly even as she opened her mouth to argue about the double standard of men getting plastered and no one saying a word.

“Ah, well, she’s Harry’s problem now, isn’t she?” Ron said and mused. “Their wedding is going to be a fun one. Who knows, maybe we can even convince you to get in on the excitement.”

Again he let out a little laugh, wishing he could witness her lips twitch as they always did when he was teasing her. When they didn’t, he sighed, settling back into his chair and taking another drink. It was a cruel joke. She was right here, right beside him. He could stare into her features as much as he liked and yet she wasn’t _Hermione._

“Miss you,” he said before he could sensor himself. “Miss you so much, Hermione.”

It was one of those restless hospital nights that nothing could hold his attention. The wireless was too upbeat, and too often reminding him of what he was missing out on with their dedications of _this one goes out to all the love birds_ or _to all the sweethearts_ or _congratulations to-_

“We get it,” Ron mumbled, shutting the thing off. “Everyone is happy and in love.”

It wasn’t even the point of the holiday. It was supposed to be about fresh starts, new beginnings, wasn’t it?

He’d tried reading his novel, filling out paperwork but not even flipping through quidditch weekly could hold his attention. Still, he’d gotten lost enough in thought that when noises echoed from down the hall it took a moment to orient himself. Then the street echoed the cheers and he realized, with a twisting feeling that midnight had come.

He tried to compose his face though there was no one there to see it and stood up, smiling for Hermione.

“Happy New Year!” he said brightly and from down the hall, Auld Lang Syne echoed from a wireless. He bent down, pressing his lips to her forehead, wishing, for the thousandth time that he might find life in her eyes. “Happy New Year, Hermione.”

And then, incredibly, he felt her hand twitch in his. Ron glanced down at her fingers. Had it just been a figment of his imagination? A wish he’d been making for days?

“Hermione?”

She answered with the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, a long, low moan of pain.

“Hermione!” he said, unable to process what he was seeing. All those days and nights spent waiting for this very moment and now that it was here- “Hold on, let me grab a healer.”

She grunted at him, and he rushed to the doorway, “Hello! Help! I need someone in here!”

He didn’t wait for a reply, rushing back to her bedside and taking her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m here, I’m here Hermione.”

There was a flurry of movement as others rushed into the room but Ron refused to be displaced, holding her hand as tenderly as he could and watching, with amazement, as the body that had been still for months began to show life. Her eyes fluttering open and shut, her hands twitching, coughs echoing from her lungs.

The healers were saying all sorts of things, running spells and charms. Hermione’s eyes opened and she scanned the room worriedly until, at last, they landed on him. Her lips twitched upward as her mouth sounded his name. _Ron._

“I’m here,” he told her, his voice cracking with relief and he pushed past the person separating them, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I’m here, Hermione.”

Her eyes darted around again, and he could see the question in her eyes.

“There was an accident, at work. You’ve been out of it, God Hermione it’s been a minute but it’s okay, I’m here.”

The hand that he’d refused to let go of twitched in his, a squeeze and he laughed again. “Oh, Hermione. I love you.”

She closed her eyes, tears squeezing out the sides and he pressed his forehead to hers, his own tears of relief mixing with hers. He had never felt joy as he did in that moment.

“I love you,” he whispered again, “I love you.”


End file.
